


fur-midable love

by electricpulses (yibaek)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Louis is basically Cupid, M/M, Realization, Rimming, dumb boys, side kunwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27287320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yibaek/pseuds/electricpulses
Summary: Ten's cat really loves Johnny, and it takes that to make Ten realize he kinda, maybe, also loves Johnny.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 95
Kudos: 765





	fur-midable love

**Author's Note:**

> hi :O 
> 
> i'm supposed to be working on commissions but this crept in and demanded to be written real quick, so it was done in like, 2-3 days total i think, over the past couple of weeks as i've been getting used to my new job and working on my other projects. 
> 
> iiiiiiii'm a little nervous; this isn't my first nct fic technically (got like 50k of a tencas so far,) but it's obviously the first i'm posting so pls be nice ;-; i am soft
> 
> also sorry about the title,,,,,i literally sat here for over an hour agonizing over it and by the time i got to a cat pun, i was too tired to care T_T ALSO this is based on [this](https://twitter.com/baekville/status/1322255958811312128).
> 
> and thank you, as always, to kiki, who helped me all the way through this, especially with the beginning and end!! she's the best ;-;
> 
> hope u enjoy <3

Ten's cat fucking  _ loved _ Johnny.

Which was rich, really, considering Louis was a spoiled little demon wrapped in fur who mostly judged Ten for breathing, but every time Ten's  _ fuckbuddy _ walked through the door, he was suddenly an angelic, purring ball of fluff.

It was ridiculous.

Ten watched him now, weaving through Johnny's stupidly long legs until Johnny crouched down to pet him. 

“Hey buddy, how’s it going?” Johnny cooed just like he did every time, scratching behind Louis’ ear. Louis practically chirped up at him, the cheeky  _ bastard. _

Honestly,  _ what the hell? _ Ten wondered, because yeah, he was a little bitter. He didn’t even speak to Louis in English usually, yet there Louis was, meowing like he knew exactly what Johnny was saying to him and telling him about his  _ terrible _ day of eating gourmet cat food and lounging in the window and  _ can you believe Ten spent an hour getting ready for you to come over? _

(It would have been longer if Ten had time to dry his hair and maybe glide on a hint of eyeliner, but Johnny was twenty minutes  _ early.) _

Clearing his throat, Ten watched as Johnny's gaze shifted up until his pretty eyes were on Ten instead, his mouth twisted into something a little mischievous.

They'd been doing this for a while now, Johnny and Ten, Ten and Johnny. Hooking up, sleeping together, fucking around— _ whatever _ the kids were calling it these days—for a little longer than a year now since they’d met at a mutual friend’s birthday party.

They were both established professionals, Ten in dance, Johnny in photography, and had little time for anything other than this. At least, that was what they kept saying, but Ten wasn’t sure what the words were worth when they now saw each other up to three times a week, sometimes just to  _ hang out. _

They were friends, definitely, and if he thought about it long enough, Johnny was even one of his closest friends. He enjoyed Johnny’s company, saw him more than he saw Kun and Sicheng, even, and there was no one he loved more than his life-long best friends.

He just wasn’t sure how they went from feeling each other up in a club bathroom and agreeing to keep doing that, to showing up on each other’s doorsteps with their favorite food and a new cheesy horror film to make fun of together.

That wasn’t what Johnny was here for tonight, though.

“Hi,” he murmured, standing in front of Ten now. His hand cupped the side of Ten’s neck as he bumped their noses, half-affectionate, half-heady, and fully driving Ten mad.

“Hey Johnny,” he sighed like he was relieved. Maybe he was. Sometimes it felt like three days without seeing Johnny was too long, too much. His hands couldn’t grasp enough of him, and the way Johnny pressed into his touch said he felt the same way.

Their first kiss was always soft, something that should be reserved for good mornings and lovers, but the gentle pull of his lip between Johnny’s always made him shudder. 

Ten never had been a fan of slow-burn, however, so he pressed forward like he always did, his entire body lining up with Johnny’s as if it was made to. His teeth teased at Johnny’s bottom lip, testing Johnny who quietly groaned, his other hand spanning Ten’s lower back and keeping him close. 

“Did you have a good day?” Johnny asked, almost breathless, because  _ of course he did. _

Ten nodded and chased Johnny’s mouth. “Did you?”

“It’s better now.”

It was a little too cheesy to make Ten smile the way he did, but he couldn’t help himself, squeezing Johnny’s waist and pressing their grins together.

“Good.”

Johnny’s hand moved from Ten’s neck to his hair and Ten crashed back into him. They could talk after. This was what mattered for now. If Johnny hadn’t had a good day, this was how Ten could keep making it better, with strategically placed hands and a clever tongue licking deep into Johnny’s mouth.

They both ignored Louis coiling around their legs, breaths heavier and mouths hungrier and  _ god,  _ Ten liked where this was going.

“You just showered?” Johnny suddenly asked against his mouth, as if his fingers weren’t squeezing Ten’s wet hair.

Ten nodded. “Yeah, baby, you’re early—“

Johnny’s mouth consumed his again, nearly bending Ten over backwards with the force of it.  _ Now we’re talking.  _ Ten’s hands slid until they bunched Johnny’s shirt into fists, walking backwards when prompted.

This was routine too, like everything else, stopping at the edge of the bed, tossing Johnny’s shirt aside the second Ten’s pants and underwear were around his ankles. 

Johnny’s mouth was hot where it lingered on Ten’s neck, fingers teasing at the hem of his shirt while Ten worked Johnny’s jeans open. He slid his hand inside, palm flat against Johnny’s crotch just because he liked the way his moans felt against his throat.

Impatience seemed to get the best of Johnny, however, and the rest of their clothes were gone in a flash. Mostly. Ten giggled when Johnny stumbled on top of him once he laid back, clumsily kicking off his pants as an afterthought, desperate to be on top of Ten.

Or maybe it was indecision, because when Johnny righted himself again, he didn’t climb on top of Ten. No, he ended up on his knees on the floor after running a hot trail of kisses down Ten’s stomach. Then, he hooked his arms around Ten’s thighs and hiked him to the edge of the bed.

Ten  _ keened, _ it was inevitable, when Johnny spread his asscheeks with one hand and nudged his tongue between them. He grappled for something to keep him grounded, one hand on the sheets, the other in Johnny’s hair.

“John—Johnny—“ Ten whipped his head back, neck arched in time with Johnny’s tongue working its way past his rim. “Oh my god, Johnny—“

Johnny hummed, and when Ten writhed and squeezed his hair, his hum morphed into a moan. Ten adjusted his legs, curled his toes into Johnny’s shoulders, and Johnny wiggled his tongue, deeper, shallower, in, out.

Christ, Johnny’s mouth was something else.

With a strained moan catching in his throat, Ten slapped around behind him for the lube he’d left there, glad for Johnny’s sake that he only had strawberry lube left. He flicked the cap open—though it took a few tries thanks to his trembling fingers—and tapped Johnny’s shoulder with his foot. Johnny winked and held out three fingers, ready for the way Ten immediately squeezed lubricant onto them. 

They were a well-oiled machine at this point, always on the same wavelength, always working a little too well together.

Ten accidentally dropped the lube when Johnny’s finger gentled its way in next to his tongue, and Ten would have mourned the mess now on his bed if the slide of Johnny’s finger inside him wasn’t absolutely maddening. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, fumbling with the lube bottle again, closing it, tossing it aside. “Yeah, baby— _ oh.” _

“Good?” Johnny asked after a moment, panting around the word. His full-ass lips were shining with spit, his chin with lube, and he was just  _ staring _ at Ten’s face, cheeks pink, eyes heavy, like he wasn’t the picture of lust himself, slowly working his second finger in. “Ten?”

Ten squirmed against Johnny’s hand, shaking his head enough to clear it. “So good, baby. I—“ Johnny slid his fingers a little deeper and curled them, sending Ten’s back arching from the bed.  _ “Right there, right there. Johnny—there—“ _

Ten could barely see Johnny’s face through the haze of arousal, but he could make out the sweet smile, a smirk really, as he said, “I know, baby.” Then he dragged his lips along Ten’s inner thigh, dropping stimulating kisses. “I’ve got you.” 

He sunk his teeth, then, into the soft flesh of Ten’s inner thigh and the wave of pleasure that surged through him was so tenacious he thought he might come then, untouched and way too quickly. 

But he gasped in a breath and the feeling eased, allowing him to feel the hungry way Johnny’s teeth sucked at his skin and the stretch of a third finger sliding in with the rest.

Ten was a genuine, writhing mess by the time Johnny was licking at him again, spreading Ten with his three fingers and slipping his tongue into the space between. 

_ Fuck,  _ the way Johnny moaned. The way he moaned like it was his favorite goddamn meal, the sound reverberating through Ten’s very core.

Johnny’s hair was damp where Ten relentlessly held on, trying not to buck his hips or dislodge Johnny in any way, trying not to squeeze too hard but knowing Johnny kind of liked it when he did. He could feel the sweat beading on his hairline, the precome smearing against his stomach, trapped somewhere between feeling too much and not enough.

“Johnny, Johnny—“ Ten gasped, nearly arching right off the bed and onto the floor. “Fuck me. Please.  _ Please.” _

Johnny hummed, he  _ hummed _ like he had to  _ think about it,  _ and Ten made this desperate, inhuman sound and yanked on Johnny’s hair.

_ “Johnny.” _

He slowly pulled his tongue out but didn’t stop pumping his fingers. He licked his lips, dragged the mess of spit and lube on his mouth across the tender bruises he’d left behind.

“I guess you did ask nicely.” His voice was a husk of itself and betrayed just how wrecked he really was, which only frustrated Ten more. Johnny had the patience of a saint, and used the fuck out of it to  _ sin,  _ to drag Ten to the precipice and leave him hanging there.  _ All the time.  _ He was a fucking tease and Ten was going to  _ die _ because of it.

Johnny laughed. “I think I can literally hear you cussing me out in your head.”

“Then you should  _ know—“ _

“Yeah, yeah.” He just laughed again and patted Ten’s thigh as he slid his fingers out. “But guess who doesn’t like to be kissed after I eat them out?”

Ten sighed, making the sound as dramatic as possible and deflating into the bed. They didn’t have to kiss, he wanted to say,  _ you can just fuck me until I don’t even know my name anymore,  _ but sometimes...sometimes kissing was the best part. Johnny was just such a good kisser, and Ten didn’t believe in denying himself of good things.

There was a smile in Johnny’s voice when he said, “Get comfy, darling. Touch yourself. I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

“The things that come out of your mouth,” Ten muttered, but he sighed again and plopped his legs over the edge of the bed as Johnny stood.

“You like it.”

Ten grunted. “Debatable.”

Johnny just laughed as he slipped through the bathroom door, and Ten tipped his head back and pouted at it since Johnny couldn’t see. Then he scooted, a little embarrassed that his arms were so weak with tremors as he eased himself onto the bed properly. 

Johnny definitely had a good mouth, in every respect, but he also knew exactly how to pick Ten apart, piece by piece until he was a shell of himself.

He was also unnecessarily good at phasing between  _ on _ and  _ off. _ Johnny stopping mid-conquest to go brush his teeth always took Ten out of the moment a bit, not like it was hard to get going again when Johnny was  _ Johnny,  _ but still. Ten had to warm up again. Johnny didn’t. 

Johnny could go from being tongue-deep in Ten’s ass, to joking and brushing his teeth, to climbing back up Ten’s body like he was born to fuck him and him only.

It was a gift, honestly.

“Is this—“ Johnny popped his head back through the door. “Is this the spare toothbrush? Next to yours?”

Ten hummed, a little distracted as he smoothed his hand over his cock. “Yeah. F-Figured you use it enough? There’s also—“

“Oh, my favorite flavor!”

Toothpaste. Johnny hated Ten’s cinnamon toothpaste; it was  _ too spicy. _ Ten always teased that it was the American in Johnny, making his taste buds bland, but Johnny wondered why Ten couldn’t just have a  _ normal _ toothpaste, a fine  _ spearmint,  _ even.

A couple of days ago, Ten had been at the store for cinnamon toothpaste. He didn’t really think about it when he came out with an additional spearmint, and a cup made to hold two tubes and two toothbrushes.

“Dope,” Johnny said around the toothbrush in his mouth. “Thanks, Ten.”

“Uh-huh…” The acknowledgment came out as more of a heady sigh, fingers delicately wrapping around his cock now. “Just get out here quick, baby. I need—“

“I gotchu,” Johnny gargled, and Ten had to stop his hand and laugh. This was ridiculous. Johnny was ridiculous.

Ten was ridiculous for liking it.

“Why’d you stop?” Johnny asked, voice low as he crawled on top of Ten from the foot of the bed. Had he already lubed up? Jesus, Ten had zoned out.

“I was thinking.” Ten spread his legs wide, ready for the nudge, then the easy slide of Johnny’s cock. Routine made it so simple, he reminded himself. Routine, routine, routine, and maybe something else.

Johnny nosed at his cheek, huffing warm breaths as he bottomed out and Ten squirmed. “Mm, I like it when you think.”

Ten laughed, too loud and unseemly, but Johnny still kissed his jaw, his ear like it didn’t matter. Like he liked it anyway. 

“You’re ridiculous, Johnny Seo.”

“Am I?”

Ten could feel his smile against his skin, and he swore the lingering spearmint tingled. 

Johnny braced himself on one elbow, and Ten slid a hand into Johnny’s hair and the other down his back, arching into his chest when Johnny slowly pulled out, then pushed back in. 

“So ridiculous,” Ten breathed against Johnny’s mouth. 

Johnny was still smiling when they kissed, when he tugged Ten’s bottom lip between his teeth and moaned under his breath. 

“I think  _ you’re _ ridiculous,” he muttered. “Ridiculously sexy.”

“Oh my god,” Ten cried, or laughed, maybe both. It was always whiplash when it was like this, when Johnny fucked him with freakish precision but made him laugh like they were just sitting over cups of coffee. “Shut up and kiss me, you weirdo.” 

“Never,” Johnny moaned around a long, deep stroke. “I mean about shutting up—you shut up—you like it.” He arched into Ten’s fingernails scratching across his back. “I’m definitely gonna kiss you.”

Ten yanked Johnny closer by the hair, smirk on his mouth as he waited for Johnny to close that last millimeter of space left between them.

“Gonna kiss the shit outta you.”

He did, and he settled into the angle that worked best when they were like this, inseparable, chatty, giggly. Ten never knew what he was going to get when Johnny came over. Sometimes it was fast and hard, usually when one of them had a particularly bad day. Sometimes it was the opposite, slow, mind-numbing, and the kind of intense that kept Ten up at night, wondering why he felt so strange about it.

And sometimes it was like this.

Johnny slid his hand up from Ten’s hip, slow and sensual despite the giggles fluttering between them, only to slip and lose his balance, knocking their teeth together so hard tears sprung to Ten’s eyes.

But he was laughing because it was Johnny, it was them, and it was his own little secret that these kinds of trysts specifically were his favorite.

“Fuck—“ Johnny’s cheeks flushed redder than they already were, and Ten shook his head.

“Ridiculous,” he whispered, grinning as he lifted his head and smashed his probably busted lips against Johnny’s.

The kiss made Johnny a little more determined, then, to get them off, bracing himself with both elbows and upping the momentum. Dirty little grunts and sighs crawled up his throat as if he wasn’t peppering sweet kisses on Ten’s mouth and twirling Ten’s hair between his fingers. 

Whiplash.

Ten tossed his legs around Johnny’s hips and dug his heels in when he was reaching his peak. It forced Johnny closer, turned Johnny’s thrusts shallow and a touch frantic, his mouth dragging down Ten’s throat when he tossed his head back, whining into the headboard.

“Close, sweetheart?” Johnny panted.

_ “Yeah.” _

Johnny hummed, adjusting so he could prop himself on one arm again.

“Don’t fall again—“ Ten grinned when Johnny laughed, and then Ten was laughing too until he wasn’t, a moan punching through the sound when Johnny worked a hand between them and wrapped around Ten’s cock. 

Ten chanted Johnny’s name until the syllables turned to gibberish and he saw white.

_ “God, you look so good—ah—Ten—“ _

_ “Nngh—“ _

_ “Fuuuck, baby, I’m so—I’m so—“ _

“C-Come on, baby,” Ten managed as he resurfaced from oblivion with his mouth against Johnny’s neck. 

Johnny’s moans were soft but obscene, a never ending string of pleasure puffing hot air into Ten’s hair, fast, consistent, just like his hips.

_ “Gonna—“ _ he finally said, and Ten nodded, getting both of his hands twisted in Johnny’s hair and tugging just shy of too harsh. It was instantaneous, Johnny’s orgasm. His entire body trembled against Ten’s, voice strained around a moan that broke off into a pitiful squeak.

Ten eased his grip, petting Johnny’s hair and whispering praises into his skin. He let his legs fall, spent, boneless beneath Johnny’s weight, and a lazy smile stretched his mouth when Johnny started kissing his face as he drifted back to him.

“God,” Johnny sighed.

“I told you to call me Ten.”

Johnny’s laugh buzzed against his cheek, and Ten jolted when he felt a sharp pinch on his side. “I’m too...floaty to banter right now,” Johnny mumbled, bumping their noses and pressing in for a chaste kiss. “God, it’s always so good with you…”

Ten couldn’t help but wonder who it might be not-so-good with in comparison.

Still, he giggled against Johnny’s mouth, “Ditto.”

“Mmm. Stop being so cute.”

“Make me.”

For a moment, Johnny just looked at him. Eyes heavy-lidded, glancing between his mouth and back. His cheeks were still glowing with the high of orgasm and it made him look so...soft. 

Ten couldn’t help but pet him again, gently drawing his fingers along his hairline and freeing the sweat-soaked hairs stuck to his forehead. He smoothed his other hand down the back of Johnny’s head before wrapping that arm around his neck. 

It was normal for them to cuddle afterward, but Ten was feeling a little extra clingy today, and when he picked up his foot and dragged his toes up and down Johnny’s leg, Johnny’s mouth pressed into his with a little more vigor than before. 

Oh, right, he was supposed to be shutting Ten up.

Ten found himself gasping after a minute, Johnny pressed close enough to give Ten’s sensitive cock a little friction. He tightened his hold, hand grasping Johnny’s cheek and urging Johnny’s tongue deeper into his mouth.

Neither of them said anything, falling deeper and deeper into each other, until Johnny’s cock twitched, still half-inside Ten.

“Can you—“ Ten managed between ravenous kisses. “Again—?”

“Think so.” But Johnny hissed when Ten clenched around him. “Just gimme—gimme a minute.”

This time it was a little more frantic, driven by a sheer need that had overcome them both. They didn’t talk other than whispered appreciations, didn’t tease. 

They only touched, kissed, felt, until Johnny came first, and Ten a few minutes after with both their hands on his cock.

Johnny groaned when he pulled out and rolled onto the bed, dragging Ten with him until he was plopped on Johnny’s chest. Ten sighed, arching a little into the fingers caressing his spine and letting his eyes fall shut as Johnny stippled kisses on his forehead.

The air felt good on his sweaty back, but he squirmed when come started to drip from him. He should have gotten up, should have been psychic and put a towel down or  _ something, _ but god, he was too comfortable to move.

He lamented his soon-to-be-soiled sheets and settled more comfortably into Johnny’s arms.

“It’s always made sense you’re a cat person,” Johnny mumbled after a while, sounding half-asleep. 

“Hm?”

“You act like a cat. Even this—“ 

He trailed his fingers back down Ten’s spine, and it took a second for him to realize he was arching into the touch again. He covered his exposed cheek with his hand when it got too hot, even though Johnny could probably feel it. Johnny chuckled.

“Shut up. It feels nice.”

The minutes ticked down to when Johnny would inevitably leave, and Ten found himself wishing more and more that they could stay just like this, but it wasn’t what they did. 

On these particular nights, they cuddled for a little while and sometimes cleaned each other up in the shower, and then Johnny left with a wave, and Ten curled up with his cat and zoned out until he was tired and ready to sleep.

It was  _ routine.  _ Staying the night wasn’t. And yet.

Ten propped his chin on Johnny’s chest, gently doodling next to it with his finger. Johnny looked down at him, eyes tired and smile soft. 

He combed his fingers through Ten’s hair and Ten asked, “Do you want to stay? Tonight?”

Johnny’s face immediately fell, and Ten would’ve been discouraged if not for the fact Johnny looked  _ crushed. _

“I-I can’t, Ten. I didn’t think—so I—“ Johnny sighed. “I promised Mark I’d pick him up from the bar tonight.”

“Oh.” Ten chewed on his lip. “That’s okay. I know we don’t really, um…”

“But like—“ Johnny hesitated, eyes on his fingers in Ten’s hair instead of his face. “I want to. I just—can’t tonight.”

“Oh,” Ten said again, and really, he needed to work on more elegant responses. “Okay.”

It was after more resting, after talking about the roll of film Johnny had accidentally ruined that soured his day, after a quick shower, that they were standing at Ten’s door.

A strange, awkward tension hung in the air between them which was unusual enough to make Ten uncomfortable—which wasn’t an easy feat. 

The door was open and Johnny was already halfway gone, really, but he stepped back in, cupped Ten’s face, and quickly kissed him.

“Ask me again next time, okay?”

Ten could only nod, dumbfounded by Johnny’s strange determination, and Johnny’s answering sweet smile was ingrained in his retinas long after he was gone.

Ten jolted and quickly closed the door. When he whipped around to face the couch, he automatically said,  _ “What?” _ at Louis’ thoroughly unimpressed face. 

Louis blinked at him, clearly judging Ten for being  _ weird, _ but he let Ten plop onto the couch and hug him, so it wasn’t all that bad.

  
  


/*/*/*/*/*/

  
  


“Guys, I think I have a problem."

Three pairs of eyes blinked back at him, sitting beneath matching, quirked eyebrows that  _ bled _ unimpressed.

"Y'know what, nevermind, I hate you guys."

Kun was the first to roll his eyes, which was about the least surprising thing that would happen all day. "Don't be such a baby before you've even told us why you dragged us here."

"I  _ knew _ your  _ I just wanna hang out _ line was bullshit," Sicheng said with a sigh. He rubbed his eye with one hand and sipped his mimosa with his other, soft hair blowing in the wind like he was in a commercial. "We only do brunch on the last Sunday of the month." He leaned into Kun’s side, their affection so casual and effortless it made Ten’s heart ache.

"Yeah, man, you're really throwin' off the routine here," Yangyang added, and Ten aggressively sipped his own mimosa at him. “What? I could have  _ slept, _ dude.”

Ten sighed and leaned back in his seat. Yeah, they'd had their scheduled brunch with their usual circle—Lucas, Kunhang, and Dejun couldn’t make it on such short notice—two weeks ago, but Ten  _ had a problem. _

“What is it, Ten?” Kun asked like he could read his mind; he’d always been eerily good at that since they were kids, when Ten and Sicheng had gotten into a fight with some bullies on the school playground.

Kun saved them from being squashed like bugs, and told them that if they wanted attention that badly, they should try out for the community musical as dancers. Also that he’d be really sad if they were killed by bullies.

They were nine and had never met Kun in their lives, and got the lead dance roles in the musical. It turned out Kun was playing one of the main characters, and he, Ten, and Sicheng had been inseparable ever since.

Ten sighed again. Might as well get it over with.

“Louis likes Johnny a lot.”

Kun furrowed his eyebrows. “Um—“

Yangyang lurching forward cut him short. “That  _ is _ a problem.”

“Somehow I don’t think whatever you’re going to say to me will be relevant—“

“Dude, Louis  _ hates _ me. But he likes  _ Johnny? _ Blasphemy!” Yangyang gestured widely with his hands. 

The rest of them collectively groaned as Ten propped his elbow on the table and let his face smack into his hand. “Where did you even learn that word, Yang,” he muttered.

“How can I help? Should I go to cat therapy with Louis—?”

“Yang—“

“Maybe if you lock us in a closet together we’ll like, bond—“

Sicheng squinted, pressing closer to Kun so he could stretch his arm out and hold a finger to Yangyang’s lips, shaking his head. Kun was rolling his eyes again, but so was Ten.

“No, baby.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Louis like, loves Johnny and constantly tries to keep him from leaving and—“ His eyes narrowed at his drink as he imagined Johnny’s face in the glass. “Johnny is  _ so sweet _ to him even when he’s being super goddamn annoying—like even when we decided we can’t make out on the couch anymore because Louis kept jumping in his lap—he just laughs all cute and asks Louis if he wants to go home with him and I—“

_ “Oh,” _ Kun and Sicheng said together.

“I think I also maybe don’t want Johnny to leave?”

Yangyang was shockingly quiet and Sicheng was regular-quiet, so it’s Kun who leaned forward and rested his hand over Ten’s. “Honey, you’ve known Johnny for a while now.”

“Yeah…”

“Louis’ known Johnny most of his little kitten life.”

“Well, yeah.” Ten gestured to his friends with his free hand. “But he’s known you guys longer.”

Kun conceded with a nod. “Sure. But he sees Johnny way more than he sees us.”

“Are you trying to make some weird point like Louis thinks Johnny is his other dad?”

Humming, Kun tilted his head toward Sicheng with a frown.  _ “Is  _ that the point I’m making?”

“I think so, sweetie.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s rewind.” Kun sighed. “You like Johnny.”

Ten sputtered, nearly spewing his mimosa all over the table and his friends. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—“

“Ten.”

He sagged, twisting his mouth as he sank further in his chair. “Yeah.”

“You should talk to him,” Kun said after a simple nod, brushing past Ten’s quiet confession like  _ that  _ would be the least surprising part of  _ his  _ day. Which couldn’t be possible because  _ Ten _ had only just figured it out!

“Sounds fake,” Ten drawled, “but okay.” He shook his head. “Despite our arrangement, Johnny’s—he’s one of my closest friends. I’m not ruining that because I suddenly caught  _ feelings.” _

“Suddenly?” Yangyang broke his silence to ask.

But Sicheng interrupted with a pointed, long drag of his mimosa, punctuating it with a sigh and, “Ah, yes. Feelings. The number one thing Ten’s allergic to.”

“But...wait a second, bro,” Yangyang continued with a puppy-like tilt of his head. “You guys  _ aren’t  _ dating? You and Johnny?”

Ten looked at him like he was crazy. “No…?”

“Weird.” Yangyang leaned back in his seat, taking an obnoxiously long sip of his mimosa through his  _ straw,  _ the heathen. “I could’ve sworn you were because like, you spend all that time together and you never shut up about each other and he’s at all your performances and stuff, you know— _ ow, _ Sicheng, what the hell, man!”

Ten blinked, and blinked, eyes desperately falling on Kun because he needed answers and Kun always had the answers. Kun was watching him, expression too calculated for Ten’s liking. When Kun opened his mouth to speak, though, Yangyang said more.

“I guess it makes sense though.” He swirled his drink in its cup. “Like I always thought it was weird he never actually came to the front with us to give you the fl— _ owmph!” _

This time it was Sicheng  _ and  _ Kun, the latter reaching around Sicheng to slap his hand over Yangyang’s mouth.

Ten was suddenly seething.  _ “What _ is going on?”

Sicheng shrugged, nonchalant and like he wasn’t actively pinching Yangyang’s ear. “Maybe Louis’ trying to be cupid.”

Kun hummed, also still covering Yangyang’s mouth. Ten was going to  _ murder them. _ “Maybe you should let him.”

“Think about it, Ten,” Sicheng added. He let go of Yangyang and relaxed back into Kun’s arms. “Really think. You started sleeping together over a year ago, and haven’t slept with anyone else since.”

“That’s not true—“ Ten paused, because it was true for himself, actually, he was  _ busy,  _ but… “I’m sure Johnny sleeps with lots of people.”

Though a small voice in his head reminded him Johnny was just as busy, and when they slept together one to two times a week, and casually hung out at least once a week, it really didn’t leave much spare time for either of them, did it?

He entwined his fingers around his thin glass and stared at it. The fact no one, even Yangyang, was saying anything said it all, really.

It wasn’t just that Ten was busy, either. He remembered that first time with Johnny in a club bathroom, then Johnny insisting on walking Ten home like the gentleman a one night stand usually wasn’t. Their playful, drunken kiss that turned into rutting against Ten’s front door and fucking on his couch.

He remembered brushing off how right it felt, blaming it on the fact they were drunk.

When they got to know each other, he brushed it off because of course it felt right when they were friend soulmates. They were just close like that, comfortable. It was  _ Johnny. _

But Ten would never sleep with Kun that way, or Sicheng. He’d known them the longest, so by his drunken, one year old logic, it would feel even more right to sleep with them than with Johnny.

Just the thought made a sickening feeling roil uncomfortably in his stomach.

“I need to talk to him, don’t I?”

Kun’s hand was back, this time squeezing his wrist. “Yeah, honey, you do.”

  
  


/*/*/*/*/*/

  
  


It was hard to bring it up once Johnny was right in front of him.

He’d spent a few days hyping himself up, preparing, but when Ten blinked his eyes open against the sun and felt like he’d stepped into another reality altogether—when his eyes adjusted to the sight of Johnny peacefully sleeping next to him, sunlight filtering through his soft, mussed hair—Ten realized he had fallen so deep, it felt too late to say anything.

They’d separated sometime in the night, but Ten remembered falling asleep in Johnny’s arms while they watched a film Johnny had been dying to see after an incredible round of sex.

Ten wasn’t sure if he felt bad falling asleep for Johnny’s sake, or because he wasn’t sure he could have this for longer than a night. They didn’t mix sex and their beloved movie nights usually, though now Ten felt like they had been missing out.

He didn’t dare get used to it. 

Or this, he thought as he reached over and gently brushed a piece of Johnny’s hair from his eye. He let his thumb linger against Johnny’s cheek, trying not to startle when Johnny subtly pressed into the touch, his sigh fanning down Ten’s wrist.

He was unfairly handsome on a normal day, but especially like this.

Ten eased forward, simultaneously burrowing into the warmth and unable to help himself as he gently slid his fingers into Johnny’s hair. He leaned in to softly press his lips between Johnny’s eyebrows, just below there, lower, again, until he was kissing the tip of Johnny’s nose.

That was when Johnny’s eyes fluttered open. “This is,” he mumbled, deeply inhaling and stretching an arm around Ten, “the best way to wake up.”

Ten let himself be pulled in, welcomed the heat of Johnny’s hand sliding up his back as Johnny bumped their noses once, twice, then pressed in for a proper, spine-tingling kiss.

Nothing had ever felt more right than this, Ten thought, nothing in his life. Every brush of skin, every electrifying kiss, every sound they pulled from each other, every goddamn moment made Ten’s skin prickle with breathtaking affection and pushed him closer, closer to Johnny mentally, physically, spiritually.

It was a staggering realization; he more than  _ liked _ Johnny. 

He’d more than liked Johnny for a while. It should have been obvious, it should have smacked Ten in the face ages ago, long before now.

“Good morning,” he whispered against Johnny’s mouth, because he needed out of his head. Johnny smiled.

“Good morning, Ten.”

And that was all Ten could make himself say. He’d spent days thinking of how to talk to Johnny, what words would make the most sense, get his feelings across best. 

But it wasn’t until this very moment that he realized he  _ loved _ Johnny, and maybe Johnny liked Ten, but not that much, and that changed everything.

It didn’t matter, he guessed, because Johnny was kissing him again, and Ten was soon a puddle of affection beneath him, warm and gooey with too many yet not enough kisses that were leading absolutely nowhere.

Even if Louis decided to sleep on Johnny’s feet and keep them from doing much, it was the best morning Ten had in a long, long time.

/*/*/*/*/*/

But with such a monumental realization came new anxieties and putting a name to things he’d been feeling all along. The latter was a blessing and a curse because, oh okay,  _ that _ was why Johnny was the first person Ten wanted to text or call when just about anything exciting happened.

Now he wanted to text or call Johnny  _ all the time. _

He let himself sometimes, sending Johnny pictures of the sky, flowers he found on his walks to the dance studio, himself sitting in front of the wall mirrors and trying a little too hard to capture his most attractive angles.

Worry that he was being annoying was brief every time, because Johnny always responded in kind, sometimes with tidbits about his day, or photos of the same sky  _ (“it’s kind of like we’re together right now, right?”) _

Ten’s favorites were the photos of Johnny himself, usually making a dramatically tired face while he worked on photos, but other times with these sweet smiles that Ten found himself staring at until his screen went dark.

That was how Sicheng found him the night of their next dance troupe performance, backstage and makeup already done, curled up into a ball on his chair and just  _ staring _ at the screen of his phone. Even when the screen went dark, he could still see Johnny’s pretty smile and soft hair.

“Oh, Ten,” Sicheng said, pity dripping from his tone. He plopped into his chair next to Ten. “I’m glad you’re not in denial anymore but this is sad.”

Breezing straight past that, Ten asked, “Will he be here tonight?”

Sicheng hesitated. “I’m not sure, actually.”

“Sounds like a yes to me.” Ten tried to quell the immediate rise of his nerves, but there was something else there too—excitement, anticipation—simmering beneath the jitters. Maybe Ten could do this tonight, maybe he could face Johnny and just be honest.

“No, I actually don’t know.” Sicheng shrugged, shining an angelic smile on the artist walking up to start his makeup. “Probably yes. But like, he always says he isn’t coming ‘this time’ and then shows up anyway.”

That gave Ten pause. “He says he isn’t coming? Regularly?”

“Don’t take offense.” Sicheng waved his hand in favor of rolling his eyes, which were now closed as base was applied to them. “Poor guy just doesn’t know if you want him here or not. And you do, right?”

“He’s so  _ dumb,” _ Ten whined. “Even if I didn’t maybe have feelings—“

“Maybe?”

“—shut up—have  _ feelings _ for him, we’re friends. Our friends always come to our performances. He thinks he isn’t welcome?”

Sicheng shrugged. “He’s not in our brunch circle, so perhaps he thinks you’d be weird about it. Or maybe he thinks  _ you’re _ dumb.”

“Well that’s just rude.”

Now, Sicheng scoffed. “I don’t know what he sees in you, to be honest.”

Ten turned his chair enough that he could kick Sicheng’s thigh, then curled back up and retracted into his thoughts.  _ He always says he isn’t coming this time. _

Ten could have been reading too much into it, but that sounded a lot like someone who was trying really hard to stop caring. 

What if tonight was the night Johnny had had enough?

By the time Ten was drifting onto the stage with the rest of his troupe, hope and paranoia both were fluttering in his belly, as light and airy and complex as his footwork.

And then it was buried, less noticeable beneath the usual boost of adrenaline and all encompassing sense of freedom that came with every performance, every time he stepped on stage, every spin with Seulgi, every leap with Taeyong.

The stage was for pirouetting his worries away, until he and Sicheng were closing the show with their in-demand duet and the spotlight on them was fading. 

Then, he got the onslaught of euphoria that came with bowing hand in hand with Sicheng to rising house lights and a standing ovation, wide smiles on their faces breaking with laughter as the rest of their troupe joined them.

The hope and paranoia crept back like an inkling, at first. Ten found himself scanning the crowd before he even remembered why. 

Not many people were leaving yet, so it was easy to spot a familiar head of soft, brown hair that  _ had  _ to be Johnny.

He hoped it was Johnny.

The hair disappeared into the hallway at the back of the auditorium, and Ten, in the most unprofessional move in his entire career, launched himself off of the stage and through the chattering crowd.

He dodged anyone in his way, shouted half-baked apologies behind him when they tried to speak with or congratulate him. He’d feel bad about it later. Right now, he needed to  _ run. _

The hallway was devastatingly empty, but Ten’s feet carried him down it anyway until he was throwing himself out of the nearby double doors and onto the stone steps out front.  _ Please, please, please. _

A sigh of relief. He was there, Johnny, almost to the sidewalk with his head hanging between his shoulders like his own personal storm cloud was raining over him.

“Johnny!”

Johnny froze, and when he turned, Ten saw the flower in his hand. It looked like— “Is that…” He squinted. “—an orchid?” 

Ten thought Yangyang had been close to saying Johnny always had  _ flowers _ with him, and sure, his brain had run quite a bit with that, but it was always the cliche roses or something, but this— 

Johnny hid the flower behind his back, eyes a little wide. Ten skipped steps as he ran down them, the adrenaline of performing clearly boosting his courage.

“Ten—” Johnny cleared his throat. “I was just...in the neighborhood.”

Ten stopped when they were toe to toe, staring up at Johnny and wondering if he hung the stars that shined above them tonight. 

“At the performance center? That I was dancing in?”

Johnny visibly gulped, then nodded. “What a coincidence, huh?”

“Why are you lying to me?” Ten asked with a smile, tilting his head in a way he knew was cute. Even under the night sky, he could see the way Johnny blushed, and it was weirdly satisfying to get such a reaction when Johnny was normally so overly-confident.

“Ten—“

“Is the flower for me?”

Johnny sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, but he also slowly brought the orchid between them. Ten bit his lip as he stared down at it; it was a single stem, purple petals vibrant and beautiful. He was tempted to grab it, but instead slid his fingers onto Johnny's, keeping the flower between them and peering back up into his face.

"An orchid isn't very...conventional."

"Listen, just—get the making fun of me over with so I can go home and cringe in peace."

Ten shook his head, squeezing Johnny's fingers. "I'm not making fun of you." Johnny stopped fidgeting, staring into Ten's eyes. "Yangyang let it slip that you've been coming to my shows," Ten decided to say, but he regretted the way it made Johnny close his eyes. "You've been buying tickets to all of them when I could've gotten you in for free."

He watched Johnny's eyes flutter open, uncertainty clear. "I wasn't sure if me being there...if I was overstepping." He sighed. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me there."

"It's not, and I do."

That seemed to surprise Johnny more than anything. "Ten..."

"Why orchids, Johnny?"

"Because…” Johnny tilted his head back and groaned. “Because my mom owned a flower shop, right, and I still know way too much about them and like, she always said orchids are supposed to represent one-of-a-kind love I guess but also like—how lucky you are to have that person and I—"

Oh. 

Ten couldn’t stop himself when he pulled their hands holding the flower aside and crashed their mouths together. That explanation alone was too sweet, too much, and he wasn't sure how he'd gone so long thinking he didn't need this, the gentle push and pull of Johnny’s lips against his, Johnny’s words, Johnny’s voice, his vibrancy, for the rest of his goddamn life.

“Y-You too—?” Johnny asked, a little breathless as he knocked their foreheads together like he couldn’t decide whether to keep talking or kissing.

Ten could only nod, breath stuttering out of him. “Keep going.”

"I just—" Johnny immediately obeyed, a rush of words and breath like a volcano years past its due date. "I kept thinking...even if you don't want all of me, I'm lucky just to know you, Ten. You’re incredible." The words made Ten's fingers curl against Johnny's shoulder and he closed his eyes, emotion welling up too quickly. "That's why I've been bringing you orchids for months even though you didn't know."

"Johnny—"

"Because that's how I feel, and I was too scared to lose that. Lose you. Because I—god, Ten, I care about you so goddamn much.”

"Johnny..."

Johnny huffed, thumb brushing over Ten's ear piercings. "So there it is. All on the table, I guess. You can still let me down easy, Ten, if it’s too much. I can handle it—"

Ten laughed and shook his head.  _ "Johnny," _ he tried again, breathing the name into Johnny's lips. "Let me talk, baby."

"Oh. Yeah. Okay."

"You're—" Ten couldn't help but laugh again. "You're nice to my cat, Johnny."

Johnny paused his stroking. "What?"

"You—You say hi to Louis before you even say hi to me, really, and Louis loves you and something just...clicked one day."

"Because I'm nice to your cat..."

Ten scoffed, but it was impossible to hide the smile on his face as he planted his fingers in the back of Johnny's hair. He pulled away just enough to see him. "Are you making fun of  _ me _ now?"

_ "No, _ no, no!" Johnny laughed. "That's just not what I—I've imagined this moment at least a thousand times and uh, that was never really one of the options, so like..."

Grinning, and maybe blushing, Ten pulled their hands and the flower back between them, this time holding it up to his nose and inhaling the pleasant scent. 

"Johnny, I was in denial for a long time. And yeah, maybe the cat thing is kinda what made me realize but god—my god, I've been in love with you from the start, haven't I?"

"I don't know, have you?" Johnny asked, and he was deflecting, trying not to get too emotional, Ten could see that in his eyes. But his usual playfulness was back, still, his confidence, that familiar glint in his eye as he leaned forward and also sniffed the flower. 

The small return to normalcy settled something in Ten's heart, erasing the nervousness he'd mostly forgotten was there.

"Yeah, Johnny," he breathed. "Yeah, I really have."

"Because I'm nice to your cat."

Ten threw his head back and laughed. "Because you're nice to my cat. Because you're nice to me. Because when—when I'm alone I always wish you were next to me. 

“When I take a nice photo or  _ something, _ you're the first one I wanna show. Even when I choreograph something I really like. I wanna show you, not the other dancers. Johnny, I—"

"Yeah?"

The flower was in Ten's hand now so Johnny could pull him close, and it was all Ten could do to throw his arm around Johnny's neck, to hold on for dear life. When Johnny's broad hand slid beneath the back of his silk shirt, Ten nodded.

"Yeah, Johnny. I want it all with you." He sighed into the kiss Johnny swooped down to give. "I love you."

"God, I love you, too, Ten." Johnny was sighing too. "Like, so much."

Ten grinned, too wide to keep kissing. "So much," he softly repeated.

"And—" Johnny broke away with a heady  _ smack. _ "Oh my god, you're amazing? Like I knew that, but baby, I could literally watch you dance all day. You're so mesmerizing and like, that glitter on your eyes? It looks so fuckin' good. I can never see it from the back— _ mmph." _

Ten slammed into him, knowing well the best way to get Johnny to stop rambling was with a kiss, but also Ten could just  _ do _ that now without the risk of it turning weird, couldn't he? Being in love kind of made them  _ boyfriends, _ didn't it?

"Next time," Ten panted when he figured it was safe to pull away again, "I'll get you a family seat on the front row."

“Next time?” Johnny asked as he pulled back looking, hilariously, like he might burst into tears.  _ “Family  _ seat? Front row?”

“That about sums it up, baby, yep.”

Immediately, Johnny’s sweet shock melted into something infinitely more mischievous as he teased, “Dude, are we  _ boyfriends _ now?” and gently pinched Ten’s ear.

Ten’s laugh echoed down the relatively empty street, and he didn’t care as light flooded the sidewalk behind him and people started to trickle from the theatre. He had both arms around Johnny’s neck now, standing on the very tips of his toes to put him more level with Johnny’s face, to gear up for the passionate, public display they  _ deserved. _

“Yeah,  _ dude,” _ Ten giggled. “I think we are.”

“Damn, that’s cool,” Johnny murmured as he grinned and leaned down, making Ten  _ shriek _ with laughter when he hoisted Ten up by the waist and spun as they kissed.

Ten had never quite felt the world melt away around them the way it did in that moment.

/*/*/*/*/*/

_ how’s being in love? _

Ten chewed on his lip, trying not to smile too hard at the text from Kun. How  _ was  _ being in love?

He lifted his gaze and rested it on Johnny’s gently concentrated face. His eyes were on his phone screen propped on the armrest of Ten’s couch, reading a book he’d downloaded in lieu of reading the physical copy he’d brought with him. His hands were too occupied for it, one massaging Ten’s swollen ankle, the other idly petting Louis who’d curled up in his lap.

It was raining, casting the room in a dull grey. A perfect day in, they’d decided. But when Johnny glanced up at him and the force of his smile squeezed his eyes shut, Ten thought the world had never shined brighter.

Johnny kissed the air between them and focused back on his book, and when Ten’s eyes fell to Louis, he was staring at Ten, comfortable and a little too smug for Ten’s taste. Ten grinned at him regardless.

_ i think i owe louis a fat ass bag of his favorite treats ;-; _  
  


**Author's Note:**

> come cry about johnten and tencas with me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/baekville).  
> [cc](http://curiouscat.qa/baekville).
> 
> comments and kudos are always super duper appreciated ;-; <3


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